Forgiveness
by Cactus101
Summary: This fic was written during season 4 and deals with Mikey's death, Bosco's downward spiral and Faith's dedication to him. Not based on the TW's version.
1. Default Chapter

Forgiveness

Disclaimers: I don't claim any of these characters as my own. Please forgive any medical inaccuracies.

Spoilers: Cruz does not exist in this universe. Takes place after the start of season 4.

Summary: None

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It had been 4 weeks since they found Mikey dead from an overdose. They called Bosco during our shift to go down to the morgue to i.d. the body. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I thought he would break down. He didn't.

I stood outside the room and I watched Bosco as he took Mikey's hand. He just wouldn't let go, as if somehow, he could will him back to life. I couldn't make out what Bosco was saying but it took everything he had to let Mikey go and come out of that room. It was the most heartbreaking thing I ever saw.

Bosco took a week off and when he came back, Lieu decided to put him on desk duty for a few days. Now, it had been a week since he was back on patrol with me.

I knew it wouldn't be easy for Bosco, but things seemed to be deteriorating. He was so angry at first, and everyone on the street knew not to mess with him. I tried to keep him in check as much as possible. Let me tell you, it was no easy task keeping up with an angry Bosco. I was physically exhausted after a couple of days. But, that phase had faded.

We were in the middle of another endless shift and I turned to look at Bosco. He looked like he had lost some weight. Come to think of it, I hadn't seen him eating all week

He must have noticed me looking at him so he turned to stare me down with that look. The one that screamed, "_What are you looking at_?"

I had to look away. More and more, I didn't know what to do or say around him and it was driving me crazy. He would either glare at me for something I said, or act like he never even heard me, which made me feel like I was talking to a brick wall half the time. I didn't know which was worse but now I was becoming emotionally exhausted trying not to upset him while trying to help him too.

And so, sitting in a deafeningly quiet car, it was starting to take its toll on me.

"How about we get something to eat, on me." No sooner were the words out of my mouth that I wished I hadn't said them. I turned my face away from him and stared out my window, mumbling to myself. What was I thinking? It was lame even for me, and it sounded like I felt sorry for him. I quickly composed myself and turned back to face him.

Bosco held my gaze for a moment but then looked away. He pretended to focus on something on the dash. "I'm not hungry," he mumbled.

I hated this. "Boz." No answer. I tried again, "Boz, I'm right here you know." I studied his face. He kept staring at the dash like he never heard me. "Bosco," I practically yelled at him. Still no response. I was going to have to try another approach.

"Bosco, get out of the car, I'm driving." I shoved him on the shoulder. "I mean it Boz. Get out." We had been parked in the same spot for about ½ hour because Bosco just felt like it.

"Fine," he didn't even bother to look at me when he answered.

He opened the door and got out slowly. I grabbed my door handle and yanked it open. I was not going to have a bad day because of Bosco. I walked out of the RMP determined not to let that happen. I was so focused on this thought that I almost ran into him. We both stopped abruptly. I stared at him defiantly, hands on hips, daring him to make me move out of his way. He held his ground for a second before he stepped aside and gestured for me to go by him.

About half an hour later, I stopped at a diner so we could eat. I ordered for the both of us. We sat at the counter, me eating, him staring at his plate, and neither of us talking. After about 20minutes, he got up and said, " I'll wait for you in the RMP." He pushed himself off the stool and slowly shuffled off by himself. Walking seemed like an effort and I watched to make sure he made it to the RMP. I turned back before he could see me and noticed he hadn't touched a thing on his plate.

The rest of the shift was uneventful with only a couple of minor calls. I thanked God that it was a slow night because Bosco was just going through the motions and I didn't think he would be able to handle more serious cases.

I kept an eye on him and I didn't care if he thought I was trying to mother him. He looked tired and worn out. I asked him how he was sleeping but from the dark circles under his eyes, it didn't seem he was getting much. He rubbed his temple as if to ease a headache. Our shift was almost over and he had barely said two words. I was officially worried.

"Boz, you want some aspirin? You look like you could use some." I tried to sound casual.

"Nah, I'm just tired," he sighed.

Hey, I was just glad I got a response from him, but his voice sounded strained. I pulled over and studied his face. He had his head on the headrest. His eyes were closed and he looked pale.

"Bosco, you don't look so good. You want me to take you home?" When he didn't answer, I reached out and put my hand on his forehead to check for a fever. Maybe he was coming down with something. He pulled away immediately, but a small groan escaped his lips and he looked like he had regretted turning his head so quickly.

"Boz?" I noticed he started to lick his lips and swallow compulsively. Suddenly, he fumbled for the door, opened it, leaned out and started to heave. I got out and went around the RMP to his side. I used his door and my body to shield him from any nosy onlookers.

At first nothing came out, but it didn't take long to empty out the contents of his stomach since he hadn't eaten all day. He was racked by the dry heaves and I could see him shudder with every contraction of his stomach. Finally it stopped.

He stayed hunched over, hanging on to that door like it was the only thing holding him up. He kept spitting out to try and clear his mouth. Then he pushed himself away from the door and flopped back into the seat. He sucked in some air like it was a struggle to be alive. It scared me and I went into panic mode.

"That's it! I'm taking you to Mercy," I yelled out angrily, but I don't think he heard me. He was getting good at blocking me out, heck he was good at blocking everyone else out too. So, I decided to stop asking questions if he wasn't going to answer.

I reached over him and into the RMP and grabbed my bottle of water.

"Here Boz, rinse out your mouth," it was an order.

All his movements seemed so slow and painful and I was getting impatient watching him trying to unscrew the cap.

"Let me get that for you." I took the bottle away from him a little too roughly, unscrewed the cap and gave it back to him. He took a swig, turned his head and spit it out.

"I hear you. You can stop yelling at me now," he croaked out angrily. He closed his eyes and leaned his head on the headrest. Maybe I went to far with that last move but he was wearing me out.

"Bosco, you can barely function. You shouldn't be out here, you should be at home, in bed." I was getting angrier. Why couldn't he tell me what he was feeling? I was his partner for Pete's sake and he probably didn't have anyone else to talk to.

He opened his eyes and looked straight at me. "I don't have to take this crap from you. I don't have to take this crap from anyone. I told you I'm tired, and I have a splitting headache, and I had to sit here and listen to you busting my chops all night about not eating and not sleeping and whatever else you think I should be doing. You've got two kids at home, why don't you concentrate your efforts on them, unless you want them to end up just like Mikey."

Hell, that one hurt. That one really hurt. After all he's put me through in the last couple of weeks, he has the nerve to take this out on me. "You know what, you are absolutely right. Why should I waste my time and effort on my partner, who I need to watch my back so I can get home to my kids every night? I don't know what the hell I was thinking," I yelled back.

"Oh, that's right, leave it to Bosco to get you home safe and sound. You're giving _me_ that kind of responsibility? You really picked a winner, Faith," he said with disgust. "Don't you know, huh? I'm useless. I couldn't take care of my mother or my brother and my father couldn't give a rat's ass about me. You know, you're not as smart as you think you are or you would have asked for a new partner if you wanted to get home safe every night."

"Well, maybe that's not such a bad idea. I might just take you up on that," I said as I slammed his door shut, not waiting for his answer to that one.

I paced in front of the RMP with my back to him. I took deep breaths to try and cool myself off. I couldn't believe he threw that 'useless' crap back at me. He was _never_ going to let me forget.

A few seconds later, I decided it was safe to get back in the RMP. He had his head against the window and he winced as I slammed the door. I turned to him and couldn't resist one last jab, " and you better not get sick in the RMP, cause I'm not cleaning up your shit."

He didn't even turn to glare at me. He looked utterly defeated. "Let's just go back to the house," he murmured.

"Fine," I growled.

I was really glad this shift was finally over. Each day was getting longer and harder and I didn't know how much more I could take.

I changed without talking to anyone because I wanted to get away from Bosco as quickly as possible. I shut my locker, ready to go but I caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye and I couldn't help looking over at him one last time.

He was sitting on the bench still in his uniform. He made no effort to change and he looked like hell. He stared at his open locker, oblivious to everyone around him. He seemed lost in his own world. A world no one else was allowed to enter, especially not me.

I couldn't take my eyes off him. He looked like he didn't belong, like an outcast, completely and utterly alone.

Everyone around him was talking and joking, ignoring Bosco and the pain he was in. How could they stand seeing him like this? I wanted to yell at them to stop. Even Sully and Davis kept their distance now. Who could blame them? They had their own run-ins with Bosco recently. No one wanted to mess with him.

As if sensing that I was watching, Bosco looked up and stared at me with feverish eyes.

"What?" he mouthed to me.

I just shook my head feeling the anger flooding back in, and said more to myself than anyone else, "Nothing. Forget it. I don't know why I bother."

I stormed out of the locker room without saying a word to anyone. Before I stepped outside the house, I felt someone grab my elbow and turn me around. It was Ty. He must have been chasing after me and calling, but I hadn't heard.

"Whoa, Faith. What's going on? Are you okay?" He stepped closer to make sure no one else heard him. I guess I never gave him enough credit for knowing what was going on, but it was obvious that he had been watching Bosco and I the whole time we were in the locker room tonight.

"Just make sure he gets home okay," was all I could muster before turning and walking out the door.

TBC…..


	2. Forgiveness 2

Forgiveness 2

Disclaimers: I don't claim any of these characters as my own. Please forgive any medical inaccuracies.

Spoilers: Cruz does not exist in this universe. Takes place after the start of season 4.

Summary: Shippers beware; Faith and Fred are a somewhat happily married couple in this story.

* * *

When I got home it felt like I had just worked a double. I dropped the keys on the table and flopped on the couch. I was debating how I was going to handle this mess. Maybe, I should speak to Bosco's mom but she was probably in worse shape than he was. Or, I should tell Lieu to take Bosco off patrol. Either way, he would end up hating me. Hell, he acted like he did already.

"Hey hon, what's wrong." It was Fred. He had padded in from the bedroom. He must have been sleeping because he rubbed his eyes. He sat next to me and put his arm around my shoulder. I buried my face into his chest. I just wanted everything to be the way it was before.

"It's okay," he whispered. He rubbed my back and held me close and I wanted to believe him but more than anything I wanted time to stop. I wanted the world to come to a stand still. I wanted to feel in control.

"You want to tell me about it? Did something happen." He studied my face worriedly.

I felt the anger and the worry and the fatigue welling up in me and spilling over in my words. "Yeah, what do you think always happens to me, huh?" I stared back at him, waiting for an answer that wasn't coming. "Well you know what Fred? You're right about everything. You were right all along because I need to stop worrying about Bosco and take care of myself for a change!" my voice was breaking.

Fred stared back at me with a stunned expression on his face. I had always defended Bosco to him and now I guess, his wish had come true. I was about to vent to him about my partner.

I spilled my guts to Fred about what had been going on with Bosco. He just sat and listened, nodded his head from time to time and rubbed my back. He didn't seem to take any joy in my bashing of Bosco.

" So, what do you think about that?" I said to him when I finally ran out of steam.

When Fred didn't answer me, I started in on him.

"Now, all of a sudden, you're going to take his side on this. I can't believe you Fred." I was furious. And at that moment, I felt abandoned by Fred, by my partner, and by everyone else.

"Faith, maybe you're being a little too harsh on the guy. His brother just died. You should cut him some slack," he said somewhat sheepishly.

"What are you talking about? Are you nuts? Didn't you hear a word of what I just said?" I was in utter disbelief now.

Fred took me by the shoulders and forced me to face him. He looked right at me and asked me, "Faith, why are you doing this?" he said it slowly, emphasizing each word. Something about the way he said it made me stop and think. Up until then my exhausted mind was racing non-stop trying to stay two steps ahead of Bosco, and now I was able to slow down and focus on his words. Yes, why was I doing this? Why was I tying myself up into a million knots after every shift? Why was it getting harder and harder to go to work every day?

His eyes held my gaze and I stopped worrying. I stopped thinking. I felt relief wash over me and I let go of all my anger. I let go of everything.

"I'm so scared for him, Fred. I can't help him. He won't let me help him. I'm trying to take care of both of us because I can't trust him to care of himself. But, I can't do it for much longer, I just don't have the strength." I choked out sobbing.

"Do you think he would hurt himself?" Fred pulled me back and looked genuinely concerned.

"No…no, not like that" I offered weakly. But, I wasn't sure of anything anymore.

"What do you think you should do?" he asked sincerely.

I just shook my head. I had no clue what to do. I felt confused and I didn't trust my instincts. I leaned into Fred and let him hold me.

* * *

It felt like my brain was submerged in water. Everything was moving in and out of focus. All I heard were sounds washing over me. I thought I heard someone call my name but I couldn't seem to focus on the words.

I think I was sitting in my car, but why wasn't I driving? God, it hurt to think. All I knew was the throbbing pain in my head and the knot in my gut. I tried to look out at the street signs to try and make out where I was but streaks of light seemed to pierce my brain and I had to close my eyes and pray that someone would get me home soon.

The next thing I knew, someone grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. It felt like my brain would rattle around in my skull forever. I grabbed the arm holding onto to me and tried to make it stop. Oh God, please make it stop.

I peered up and I think it was Davis. How did he find his way into my nightmare? I tried to tell him to stop. I felt my lips move but I couldn't hear any words and I was afraid that he wouldn't hear me either.

* * *

I had promised Faith that I would make sure he got home in one piece. I hung around the locker room and waited for Bosco. It took forever for him to change out of his uniform. He moved like he was sore all over. I offered to drive him home and I was surprised when he didn't decline my offer and even handed me his car keys. If he felt anything like he looked, he must have been feeling pretty crappy.

I got behind the wheel, and I felt a tinge of pride when I realized that I had never known anyone else who had driven Bosco's car.

"Bosco, what's your address?" I asked as I looked over at him.

"Bosco." He mumbled something but he looked like he was half asleep. I pulled down the sun visor hoping to find the registration. Nothing. How about the glove compartment? Bingo! I turned on the light in the car and read out the address.

"Don't worry Bosco. I'll have you home in no time." I couldn't wait to take this baby out on the road. She drove like a dream. Bosco must really take care of her. Heck, he probably treated his car better than his girlfriends.

The drive was too short for my liking. I was feeling pretty good and my luck didn't end there. Not only was I driving his Mustang but I found a parking spot not too far from Bosco's building.

"Home, sweet home, Bosco." I said as I got out of the car and waited for him on the sidewalk. I noticed Bosco hadn't made a move to get out yet, so I went around the car and opened his door.

"Come on Bosco. You're home." No response. He still seemed to be sleeping.

"Bosco, can you hear me?" I shook him gently. Something was wrong. He seemed to be out of it. Maybe, he was really sick and this had nothing to do with his recent bad mood.

He groaned and then grabbed my arm. It sounded like he was telling me to stop but it was hard to make out the words. He closed his eyes, and started to moan softly.

I was debating whether I should call Faith or just try to get him up to his apartment. I took another look at him. He looked pale. I touched his cheek and he moaned again. His skin felt hot and I knew I couldn't deal with this situation on my own.

"It's okay, Bosco. I'm just going to get you some help." I didn't know if he could hear me but I was hoping my words would somehow get through to him.

I pulled out my cell phone and dialled Alex's number.

* * *

Pain. That's all I know. It's pulsating through my eyes and neck and out into every fibre in my body. I don't ever remember feeling so much pain.

I try to open my eyes but there's too much pain. I try to turn my head but there's too much pain. I try to speak but the pain is washing over me like an ocean. I feel nauseous and all I can think about is not throwing up in my own car.

I grab the door and lean out but I have no strength to hold on and I feel myself fall to the pavement. The world spins uncontrollably and I can't tell if I'm facing up or down. I pray I'm facing down because I do not want to die choking on my own vomit.

Hands grab me, and every fibre in my body screams for mercy. Why does everything hurt so much? I feel myself being turned as I start to heave again.

Ice. God, those hands feel like ice on my face. I have to get them off me. They're burning holes through my skin. I yell to who ever will listen to let me go, but no one hears my screams.

* * *

I had turned my back to Bosco to try to get better reception on my cell phone when I heard a thud.

"Oh my God. Hold on Alex, he just fell out of the car." I run to Bosco. He's lying on the sidewalk and I can hear him heaving.

I grab him by the shoulders and pull him so that his legs are completely out of the car. I turn him over onto his side. I check his airway but it looks like he's only throwing up liquid and bile. He gasps slightly, but he's breathing on his own. I touch his forehead again. He's not supposed to feel this hot. He tries to grab at my hands but he's too weak to reach up. His eyes flutter and he starts to shiver even though he's burning up.

I grab the cell phone out of my pocket. "Alex, are you still there?" I listen for her but keep one hand on Bosco to keep him from rolling onto his back. Thankfully she is still on the line.

TBC….


	3. Forgiveness 3

Forgiveness 3

Disclaimers: I don't claim any of these characters as my own. Please forgive any medical inaccuracies.

Spoilers: Cruz does not exist in this universe. Takes place after the start of season 4.

Summary: Shippers beware; Faith and Fred are a somewhat happily married couple in this story.

* * *

I'm on the couch holding on to Fred. His arms envelope me and I feel protected. Nothing can touch me and for the first time in a long time I feel almost serene. But then the phone rings and my mind begins to race once again.

I rush to pick it up and huff into the receiver, "Bosco?"

"Faith, I didn't mean to wake you but I didn't know who else to call."

It's Ty. My blood turns to ice and I feel my heart racing as I ask, "what's wrong?"

Ty starts slowly, measuring his words. "I drove Bosco over to his place but before we even got out of the car he started to get sick and then he passed out. I'm taking him to Mercy."

"How is he now?"

Ty pauses for a long time. "He's still out. Listen, I'm almost there, I'll give you a call as soon as I know more. "

"Davis, I'm not waiting for a call. I'm on my way." I hang up the phone and turn to Fred. I feel the panic rising in my chest and start to babble, "He didn't look right tonight. I should have done something. I should have known he was sick. I need to go to Mercy. Davis is taking him there now."

The feeling of serenity is replaced by fear. My gut knows this is not good. My brain keeps replaying all the moments that confirm this to me. I berate myself for not doing something earlier. All I know is that I have to get to Mercy. Where are my keys? Why can't I find my keys? I need to be with Bosco. What did I do with those goddamn keys? I look around panicked.

"Where the hell are my keys?" I yell at Fred. I'm fumbling with my purse but I'm just going through the motion of looking for me keys my mind is reeling in another direction. I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around and Fred holds out my keys to me.

"Call me," he says before helping me with my jacket.

"I will," I reply breathlessly. I run out grateful he didn't try to talk me out of going.

* * *

I run into the ER and head for the admitting desk. "I'm looking for Maurice Boscorelli. He was just brought in." I don't even wait for an answer before my eyes search the lounge for Davis or Boz. No sign of either of them.

The nurse looks at her chart before replying. "Yes, he was just brought in. Are you family?"

"What? No, I'm his partner. We're police officers. Where is he?" I didn't want to play a round of 20 questions with her.

"Well, the doctor is with him now. He should have some news shortly. Why don't you wait in the lounge and I'll come and get you then."

"Where's Davis?"

"Who's Davis?" she asks while checking her charts for his name.

"He brought Bosco in. Is he still here?" I was getting impatient. I could have avoided this run around if I had brought him in myself. The nurse looks perplexed and I can feel the frustration growing in me. I turn around angrily and am faced with Ty. For a brief moment I see the relief on his face.

"Faith. Thank God you're here."

"How is he?" I search his eyes for the answer.

The relief is replaced by worry. "I, I don't know," he stammers without too much conviction.

"What happened? Tell me everything." I try to stay calm but I'm afraid my voice betrays me.

"Well, it's pretty much what I told you over the phone. I offered to drive him home and I was surprised he didn't blow me off. He slept in the car but once we got there he couldn't get out. He got sick and felt pretty feverish. He passed out so I thought it was best to bring him here and have him checked out." He fidgets while telling me all this. He turns to look at the exam room and then back to me. "Oh, yeah. The doctor wants to ask you some questions about how Bosco was feeling today. He said he would be out shortly. Why don't we wait in the lounge?" He takes me by the elbow and steers me towards one of the lounge chairs.

The wait is killing me. I keep staring at the exam room willing the door to open. Seconds feel like hours. I start to pace nervously in the lounge.

Finally, a doctor comes out and spots Davis. He walks towards us in the lounge.

Davis turns to introduce me. "Doctor, this is Faith Yokas, she's Bosco's partner. She was with him all day. I'm sure she can fill you in if you have any questions."

"How is he?" I say before the doctor can ask me any questions.

"Well, he could be better. We haven't determined yet what's causing the high fever. I'm concerned about his condition. I need to ask you a few questions to help us with a proper diagnosis."

I nod my understanding. "I'll do the best I can."

"Was he complaining of a headache, nausea, sensitivity to light, or neck pain today?"

I take a moment before answering. "Definitely yes to the headache. He seemed feverish as well. He looked like he was sore all over but he didn't specify anything about his neck. He did rest his eyes, but I thought it was due to the headache or fatigue. He threw up once, at the end of the shift but he didn't eat anything all day. I don't think he's been eating well for the last little while." I tried to think if I was missing anything but my mind was already trying to figure out the problem. "What do you think it could be?" I ask the doctor.

"My guess is meningitis but we'll have to perform a test to confirm the diagnosis. "

"Is it serious?"

"It can be. Does Mr. Boscorelli have any family we can call?"

"Ummm…he told me his mom went to visit her sister but I don't know how to reach her," I said then look to Davis for support. He just shrugs his shoulders.

"Can I see him?" I ask cautiously.

"Sure, he's in exam room 4. I'll be in there shortly." The doctor turns and walks towards to nurse's station.

I stand there while my brain is trying to process this information. I take a few deep breaths and nod my head as if to convince myself that I'm ready to see him but my feet feel like they're cemented to the ground. I'm in my own world until Davis breaks the silence.

"Faith, do you want me to come with you?" Honestly, I had forgotten he was there.

"No, it's okay." I start to will myself towards the room. I push the door open and make my way to the bed. Even before I see him, I hear him.

Bosco's breaths are fast and laboured and he sounds like he's in pain. He has a thin blanket covering him but he's shivering and his teeth are chattering.

"Boz, it's me, Faith." There's no reaction. "Boz…can you hear me?" I take his hand. I'm shocked at the heat radiating off of him and he's shaking so hard it's scaring me. I look around for the nurse.

"Excuse me. This isn't normal. You have to help him." I could hear the hysteria in my voice.

"We're doing everything we can to bring his fever down. We've just administered some more medication, it shouldn't be too long before it starts to take effect," she answers matter-of-factly. Maybe, she's used to seeing people in this condition, but I'm not, and especially not Boz.

I had to steady myself. I had to be strong for Bosco. He needed me and I had to be there for him. I lean in towards him.

"Bosco, I'm right here. I won't leave you. I'm right here," I whispered in his ear. I smooth back the hair from his forehead. He was burning up. There had to be something I could do to help him.

"Do you think I could get a washcloth? Is that ok?" I ask.

"Sure. Use lukewarm water, it might make him feel better." The nurse smiles as she hands me a small washcloth. She probably thinks I'm his wife or something.

I wet the cloth and returned to Bosco's side. The shivering and chattering hasn't subsided. I wash his face with the cloth but it only makes him grimace.

"Boz, what's wrong? Do you want me to stop?" I search his face for the answer. He tries to speak but it comes out all warbled. I can't make sense of it.

"Shhh, it's ok. I'll stop…shhh." I try my best to comfort him.

The nurse is preparing an equipment tray next to the bed as the doctor walks in. He reviews the chart and I can see the concern on his face. "Let's get him ready for the tap," he says to the nurse. She nods her understanding.

"Mrs…" he searchs his memory for a moment, "…Yokas. You can wait outside while we perform this test."

"What is it for?"

"A spinal tap is to help us determine if he has meningitis. The procedure should only take a few minutes." He notices I haven't made an effort to leave the room. "If you prefer, you can stay and keep him calm during the procedure. I'll need to extract spinal fluid and we need to make sure we keep him as still as possible."

I nod my understanding. "Yes, I'll stay. Just tell me what to do." I promised Bosco I wouldn't leave him.

We move Bosco onto his side and bring his knees up and his head down towards his chest to help expose the space between the vertebrae. By the time we get him into the right position I'm ready to cry. He's in so much pain whenever someone touches him or moves him. He tries to get away from us and the groaning is more than I could bear. I try to calm him.

"Bosco, it's almost over. I promise. It'll be over soon, please just take some deep breaths." I scan the faces of the doctor and the nurse for support but they are concentrating on the task at hand as if Bosco's pain is inconsequential.

* * *

I'm so cold. I've never been so cold in my entire life. I can't feel anything but mind numbing cold. It's in my bones, eating away at me from the inside out.

My muscles cramp up from the pain. God, please stop this pain. No more pain. I can't take this any longer.

Hands all over me. I try to get away but they're holding me down. Why do they want to hurt me? Then knives…oh God, it feels like knives…stab me...someone help me...make it stop…I can't…take it…I can't…take the pain…I can't breathe...help me…someone help me…I feel the darkness coming …but the pain is too much….and I let…I let the darkness take me.

* * *

I feel nauseous and dizzy as my senses are overtaken by the harsh sounds of his breathing and the smells of the hospital. The walls seem to be closing in on me and I can't bear to listen to his moaning anymore. "Bosco…please…please, shhh…it's almost over."

Then the doctor inserts a needle into his back and I thought I would pass out. Not from the needle, but from Bosco's cries. They cut me right to the core. He just stopped struggling and I felt my world shrink, and all I heard were his screams.

TBC…


	4. Forgiveness 4

Forgiveness 4

Disclaimers: I don't claim any of these characters as my own. Please forgive any medical inaccuracies.

Spoilers: Cruz does not exist in this universe. Takes place after the start of season 4.

* * *

I can't do this. I can' t see him like this. I can't see him dying right in front of me. I know this. I know he's dying. I know Bosco. No matter what any doctor says. They don't know Bosco, and I can feel it in my gut; he's dying. They're killing him. This is not the way it's supposed to be.

My hands are shaking. I don't feel strong. I'm not…I can't…help anyone. He's not going to be ok. He's not ok. He wasn't ok earlier today. I should have helped him. I'm his partner. It's my job to look out for him, not Davis. God, I saw it, why didn't I do anything?

I stare down at his till form. His face is still but deathly white. The doctor and nurse move around the room as if in slow motion. Don't they see him? I reach out to touch him. His cheek feels ice cold and red-hot all at the same time. I feel my breath catch in my throat with fear because I can't help him. He's dying and no one else can see this. It's too late and this is my fault.

I clutch at my stomach and stumble out of the room.

I grab the first wastebasket I can find and heave into it. I can't hold anything back. It feels like it will never end. I drop to my knees and drape myself over the basket. It is the only thing holding me up.

The heaving ends but the pain is stronger now. My heart feels like it's about to break into a million pieces. It's my fault. I should have known something was wrong. I should have done something to help him, but I was too busy yelling at him. Oh God, what have I done?

I feel arms wrap around my shoulders, and a cool hand on my forehead. "It's not ok," I spit out. That's all I can feel in every fibre of my being and I need everyone to know.

"It's not ok…it's not ok," I repeat to anyone who will listen.

* * *

I hold on to her but I feel helpless. She needs more than what I can give. She slumps back into me and I lift her onto the chair against the wall. She keeps mumbling that it's not ok.

I wrap my arms around her and rock her gently. "I know, baby. I know." I try to quiet her. I feel her trembling so I tighten my grip on her. I've never seen her this upset. It scares me but all I can do is comfort her. "I know, Faith," I murmur to her gently.

If I keep saying it, she might believe it and for once, I actually mean it. I can feel how much this is killing her.

"Fred?" Faith's voice is small and fearful

"Yeah baby, it's me." She shifts to turn and look at me and her eyes are mired in confusion.

"What are you doing here?" She stammers. She says it without malice.

"I called the ER and they let me speak to Davis. He filled me in on what was going on and I thought you could use some company." I watch her carefully but she doesn't show any sign of gratefulness. " I left the kids with Mrs. Murphy," I say to ease any worries about the kids. But, I soon realize she wasn't thinking about them. I pull her back into my arms and rest my chin on her shoulder.

She hugs her stomach and shivers. I give her a squeeze and she turns to bury her face into my shoulder. She feels so fragile and vulnerable and I hold her even closer. I would anything to make this stop. I whisper gently in her ear that I'll do whatever it takes to make it better.

* * *

Darkness.

I feel the darkness all around me. It surrounds me so completely that I can't see a way out. I look around frantically.

Slowly light begins to filter in around the edges. I don't know where I am. Faces float in and out of my line of vision. They are distorted faces. Frightening faces. They taunt me with needles and drugs. They are junkies and they have come to haunt me.

I hear screams, Mikey's screams. I have to find him before the junkies do. I have to stop him from taking those drugs. I have to save him but I can't see him. His screams get louder and I fear for him. My heart feels like it's going to pound right out of my chest. The sound is deafening and it drowns out his screams.

Then, I hear Faith. She screams for me too. I turn towards her voice and call out. She's nowhere to be found. "Faith…Mikey…" I hear the desperation in my voice. I am lost and disorientated.

I start running. I have to find her. No, not Faith, this time I'm looking for Emily. The world is white and I can't see her. Snow is falling all around me, clouding my vision. My breaths come in short bursts as I search for her. Faith is counting on me to find Emily. Where could she be? I'm frantic. I can't let Faith down. I scream for her…Emillllyyyy.

Suddenly, the sound of a lone gunshot fills the air. I turn on my heels and watch Hobart fall. Blood flows out of the gaping wound in his head. My fear is replaced by anger. "He wasn't going to hurt me." I yell at the top of my lungs. The other officers stare at me in pity. I run up to Sully and I grab him. "Why did they shoot?" I ask in a rage. He just stares back stonily, unmoved by the scene before him. Sirens and flashing lights pound into my brain. The noise is piercing. I have to grab my head. Noooooooooo…

Ma is crying. "Please stop," I beg of her. Dad is yelling. He's hitting me. The smell of booze and blood overwhelms me. I'm going to be sick. He's hurting me. "Please stop," I whimper. But, he doesn't. I try to scream but the blood pooling in the back of my mouth makes it impossible for me to speak let alone scream. I taste the blood and it causes me to gag.

I feel like I'm drowning in blood. I'm gasping for air and when I look down, I see Ross lying on the ground. His vacant eyes stare back at me, his mouth is agape and covered in blood. I can't breathe. I can't breathe for him. I lean back in defeat. I have to look away. I have to look away from his accusing glare. I tilt my head back and suck in as much air as I can.

When my vision clears I find myself staring straight at the sun. It's so bright it burns my eyes. I blink away the blindness and slowly open my eyes again. The sky is a deep blue. It is beautiful but I only feel dread. I don't know where I am, but this is a terrible place, a frightening place.

I blink to snap myself out of this state. It's then that I realize I'm staring down at the city. The dread and fear intensify as I recognize that I'm on the roof, the roof of the north tower. I swallow hard because this can't be…this can't be happening…this can't be happening to me. It must be a dream or a flashback. It has to be. I keep saying it over and over until I see the plane heading right for the building.

I close my eyes and pray for mercy. This can' be happening…oh God, this can't be happening…and then I feel it.

The building sways and I freeze with terror. I stumble and fall to my knees and that's when I feel the rumble coursing through my body. At first it sounds very distant but I know it's coming for me. I look for a way out and that's when I see Faith. She is here too.

I scream for her but I am drowned out by a million voices. The colours blind me as I feel the world explode and …Faith is falling…falling over the side…Faaaaaaith… falling into the darkness…Faaaaaaaaith… I try to run to her…but the sky is coming down on me and I feel …the pain…oh God, I feel everyone's pain…Ross and Hobart, Rudy, Sullivan, Bobby, Davis, Faith, Ma, Shaquana, Mikey…and their faces swirl around me …their screams come crashing down on me drowning out my thoughts…God, the noise…help me…someone help me, help me, HELP ME …the world is spiralling out of control… makeitstopmakeitstop…I don't hear myself scream…I can't feel myself breathe…I can't feel myself as the darkness comes…and it comes to swallow me…as I fall into the abyss.

* * *

Davis sits with Faith in the lounge while Faith rests. I don't know how much more she can take. She's exhausted with worry. We promised her we wouldn't leave Bosco so we take turns sitting with him.

I understand why she is so shook up. I can't believe it's him lying in that bed. Tubes and wires are going in and out of him and he's so pale that if I shine a light on him, I'd see right through his skin. His lips are tinged with blue and his eyes look sunken into his skull.

The fever is not letting up and he sounds like he's on his last breaths. I watch to make sure he keeps breathing even though they have him on O2. The doctors and nurses are in and out giving him medication for the meningitis, but nothing they do seems to help.

He stirs as if he's dreaming. I'm hopeful this is good. He hasn't moved or awakened since I've been here. His eyes stay closed but they move rapidly underneath his eyelids. His breaths come faster and I think he's starting to hyperventilate. He twists around as if he's trying to get away from someone or something.

I get up and move next to the bed. "Bosco?" I call out to him but don't expect a response. He continues to struggle in his sleep. "Bosco…it's okay. "

His tries to open his eyes, but he's probably too doped up. He struggles to breathe as his eyes flutter open, and all I see is pure fear. I push the call button to get some help.

He tries to sit up but I hold him and push him back before he rips the i.v.'s out of his arm.

He gasps out one word, "Faith".

"She's fine, Bosco. Faith is okay." I reassure him. He's too agitated. I have to keep him calm. He tries to remove the mask so I hold down his hands. He turns towards me but he is still caught in his dream and I struggle to keep him still. "Bosco, she's okay. Faith is here, in the waiting room. She'll be back any minute. She'll be back to sit with you. You have to stay calm, Bosco. Come on, lie down." I push him back but he resists.

He pulls himself up and his mouth moves but no words come out, only the sharp intake of breaths can be heard and I see the absolute fear in his eyes.

"Bosco, what is it?" I ask.

"F-F-F-Faith," he manages to chatter, and his eyes roll back into his head as he starts to convulse.

TBC…


	5. Forgiveness 5

Forgiveness 5

Disclaimers: I don't claim any of these characters as my own. Please forgive any medical inaccuracies.

Spoilers: Cruz does not exist in this universe. Takes place after the start of season 4.

* * *

Faith shifts nervously in her chair. She waits for the doctor to emerge from Bosco's room to give us an update on his condition.

I notice the dark smudges under her eyes and the way she bites her lower lip. She claws at her hands and I notice she has torn the skin around her nails until her fingers start to bleed. Her eyes dart from one side to side, mirroring the turmoil in her mind. I grab her hands to quiet them and I feel the guilt that racks her. "Honey, don't do this to yourself." I implore of her.

She barely reacts to my words except for a flash of guilt in her eyes.

"Why don't we go home after the doctor comes out?" I ask.

Faith turns to me confused, not understanding. "What? I need to be here for him in case…if he wakes up and he needs me."

I watch her struggle with the words and then it dawns on me. She thinks I want her to choose between coming home with me and staying here with Bosco. She doesn't understand my motive; she just knows that she's always had to justify her decisions and actions when it came to Bosco. Why would she think that today was any different?

I want her to understand. I want her to know she doesn't need to choose. "I mean you need to take care of yourself. You need to stay strong, you need to rest too." I sputter guiltily. I look at her hoping she hears me and understands but she stares blankly into the distance and I feel her pushing away from me. "Honey, tell me what you need," I beg.

She doesn't turn to look at me but she looks down at her hands before responding. "I need him to be okay," she says plainly, without emotion. She still doesn't trust me. She doesn't trust my motives for my wanting her to come home.

I realize it will take more than words to win back her trust. "Faith, I'll do whatever you need me to do…tell me…"

She turns to me and looks into my eyes, not trusting my words but needing to believe. I've never felt more ashamed of myself than at this moment because she doesn't trust me when she needs me the most. "Honey, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I plead.

I can see gaze softening as she pats my hand.

"Please, tell me what to do. I'm here for you. I'm with you no matter what," I whimper beseechingly.

All I want is her pain to end, and I'll do anything in my power to help her.

"Just stay with me." She says softly as she searches my eyes and finds the truth she needs.

I reach out and hold her hand in mine and somehow, I feel her forgiveness. I am overwhelmed and I wonder how I'll ever be able to make this up to her.

* * *

I'm alone. I look around for someone, anyone, but the silence is eerie. I call out, but the only reply is the echo of my call.

I feel small in this emptiness. I turn around completely, scanning 360 degrees. I don't see anyone. I don't hear a thing. It's too quiet. I realize there are no birds, no voices, not even the hum of electrical wires. Everything looks familiar here outside the house; the building is the same, the RMP's are parked by the curb, the firehouse is still there. But, it feels unfamiliar.

I feel hopeless and alone. I try to walk but the heaviness of the stillness causes me to stumble. I don't have the strength to get up. I have no strength to search. I have no strength for disappointment. Searching and not finding anyone is worse than lying here helpless. I close my eyes hoping something will change.

When I wake, I am still alone. I don't even bother to open my eyes. The silence surrounding me is painful. It reaches down into my depths and fills me with incredible longing. I feel like I've been alone for a thousand years. I don't remember anyone from my so-called life. Then images flash in my brain. At first, I can't make them out but they become clearer. I see Mikey and then I remember.

Oh my God. What have I done? The images come flooding back to me and the pain hits me like a ton of bricks. Mikey's dead. "Oh my God…Mikey," I cry. The pain is crushing me; sucking the breath out of me.

Mikey's dead. My brother is gone. My Mikey…why…why didn't I call him? Why? Why didn't I return his call? He left a message for me that day and I didn't call him back. I didn't want to listen to his sh*t because I didn't want to get to work in a bad mood. I was so stupid. I was so thoughtless. He needed me and I ignored his call. Now, he's dead.

I'm so selfish, that's why I'm alone. Oh God, a terrible realization hits me, no one's ever coming back for me. My dad was right all along; I don't deserve to be loved. That's why he couldn't love me. That's why no one can love me. That's why I'm alone, lying in a street, hopelessly waiting for no one.

* * *

I've been talking to him for the last hour, but he hasn't moved in a long time. He just lays there, motionless, lifeless. I want him to wake up more than anything else.

The doctor said the medication is starting to take effect. His fever finally came down about 2 hours ago. It was hell until then. They had him under a cooling blanket for a while, but when that didn't bring the fever down they had to resort to putting him a coldwater bath.

I didn't think he would survive. Hell, I didn't think I would survive watching him screaming bloody murder, shivering, and convulsing.

I'll never forget the look in his eyes when they put him in that icy water. He was barely coherent, but he looked like he had been struck by lightening when he touched the water. He screamed and struggled to get out but there were too many people holding him down.

I keep talking to him. "Bosco, you gave me quite a scare before. I thought you were going to jump right out of your skin when they put you in that water." I wipe his face with the washcloth. He doesn't mind it now.

"Bosco, I'm sorry." I push his hair back from his forehead as I check his fever. I have to tell him when he's awake, but I can't wait until then. "Bosco…please wake up." I take his hand in mine and give him a small squeeze. "Squeeze my hand if you can hear me."

Nothing. I know he needs his rest but I would feel so much better if he just woke up, even for a minute. So, I sit and wait.

Eventually, I see his eyes flicker open, but they don't seem able to focus. "Bosco, it's Faith. You're at Mercy. You're gonna be okay. Bosco, can you hear me?" He struggles to get his bearings. "It's okay. You're okay, Bosco. "

He turns his head slightly as if reacting to my voice. "Bosco, I'm right here. It's Faith. Can you hear me?"

He blinks rapidly to clear his vision.

"That's it Bosco, open your eyes. You're going to be okay. Just open your eyes for me." He turns his head and looks toward me but the medication clouds his awareness. I give him a few moments and in the meantime, I start to take in his appearance now that he's awake. He looks exhausted with the dark circles under his eyes. His arms and hands are covered in bruises from the needles and i.v's and he seems even paler now that the darkness in his eyes contrasts against his skin.

He tries to speak through cracked lips but his throat is too dry. I grab the water pitcher and pour a small amount in a glass. I insert a straw and hold it for him while he takes a sip. "This should help. Just take it easy for now, Bosco. We'll have lots of time to talk."

He blinks and slowly shakes his head slightly as if to motion no. His eyes cloud over and the sense of relief I felt only seconds ago suddenly dissipates. I can't quite read his expression.

"Bosco, I'm right here", I reassure him. "I'm not going anywhere." I check him for fever. He's still warm but his fever hasn't spiked up again. He notices the worry in my eyes and looks at me questioningly as I continue to run my hand through his hair.

Suddenly, he turns away from my touch.

"Bosco?" I move closer and place my hand on his shoulder.

His voice is strained but the message unmistakable. "Don't", he manages to whisper. The word roars in my ears as he shrugs my hand off his shoulder, and closes his eyes to shut the world and me out.

TBC…


	6. Forgiveness 6

Forgiveness 6

Disclaimers: I don't claim any of these characters as my own. Please forgive any medical inaccuracies.

Spoilers: Cruz does not exist in this universe. Takes place after the start of season 4.

* * *

I walk towards the room with apprehension. Faith told me what happened when Bosco woke up, but I still don't understand why he would ask for me. I don't feel like I'm the best person for him to talk to because part of me just wants to knock some sense into him for Faith's sake.

I push the door open slowly. He is curled up on his side, back to the door. I enter cautiously and clear my throat to get his attention. The door shuts quietly behind me and I take a couple of tentative steps forward.

"Bosco?" I wait for a few seconds but there is no response. I imagine he's sleeping and I move back towards the door.

"Fred," he calls out weakly.

I turn back into the room. "Yeah, Bosco."

He doesn't turn or answer. Faith warned me he wasn't himself anymore.

I wait but he doesn't turn or tell me what he wants me to do. I jam my hands deeper into my pockets debating whether I should just leave.

"Fred." I look up but Bosco is still lying on his side. I guess him calling me means he wants to talk.

I walk around the bed and pull up a chair. I notice the gauntness of his face, how his features are sharper. His eyes are dark and cloudy and deep in the sockets giving him a haunted look. He seems devoid of any emotion. He stares straight ahead, not looking at me. The silent treatment is giving me the creeps and I feel the need to say something.

"Bosco, if you don't feel up to talking, I could come back later," I offer.

He blinks a couple of times, as if to focus back on this conversation and sighs before he begins. "I want you to keep Faith away from me," he says softly.

It's not exactly what I was expecting to hear. I just sit there and stare at him.

He senses my confusion and turns to look at me. "I want you to tell her that I don't ever want to see her again," he says.

My confusion turns to anger. "You want her to stay away from you?" I say incredulously. I could not believe my ears. This guy had some nerve.

"She hasn't slept in two days because she's been by your bed the whole time and you want her - the only person who cared enough to stand by you - to leave you alone."

I stare at him until he has to turn away which angers me even more. "And, you want me to tell her? I guess you don't have the b-lls to do it yourself." I snarl at him.

I get up and move away from him not trusting what I'm going to do next because I want to hurt him like he's hurting Faith.

I turn back to him but he doesn't have the nerve to look me in the eye. I can't stand the sight of him and I rush towards him grab him and pull him up towards me.

He doesn't resist or try to defend himself.

"I always knew you were a b-stard but I never thought you could be so heartless. You listen to me Bosco. She blames herself for you being in the hospital. She is running herself ragged, and she told me that all she needs is for you to be okay." He turns his head away not daring to look me in the eye. "What, no smart-ss reply to that?" I say as I push him back into the bed.

"I'm not okay," he says softly.

"What?" I manage to muster. I'm stunned by his admission. The indestructible Maurice Boscorelli is not okay.

His stare does not waver as if to confirm the seriousness of his situation. He takes the opportunity to continue. "I want you to promise me you'll do everything you can to keep her away from me."

I don't know what to say. I don't know what to think. He takes my lack of reaction as a lack of understanding.

"Don't you get it? She'll only end up hurt… or worse. You were right Fred I'm no good. I'll only cause her more pain. She doesn't deserve that. This is your chance to help Faith. Don't let her come back to see me. Please Fred...don't…I don't want to hurt her… " his voice catches and he can't continue.

I stare down at him and for the first time I begin to understand their relationship.

I always felt that Faith gave more than she got, and maybe it was true to some extent. But as partners, I know each of them would do whatever it took to protect one another.

I watch Bosco, as he tries not to breakdown. I can see how much it took for him to ask for my help. I can feel the depth of his devotion to Faith in every shaky breath he takes trying to hold back his tears.

I see the Bosco that Faith knows, a man who would rather cut himself off from his partner and friend than risk hurting her. I don't think I could ever do that for anyone, not even Faith.

I see the crossroads I'm at and see this as my chance…my chance to be the husband that Faith needs me to be. This is the chance for me to stand up for us, to take care of Faith and do what she needs me to do. I won't let her down.

"Bosco, I can't help you. What you are asking me to do is not what Faith wants. If that's the way you feel, you should tell her yourself." I stare at him but he doesn't let on if he's disappointed or mad at me. He seems devoid of emption. Faith warned me he's not himself anymore.

I take a deep breath before I turn and walk out of the room knowing I did the right thing.

TBC…


	7. Forgiveness 7

Forgiveness 7

Disclaimers: I don't claim any of these characters as my own. Please forgive any medical inaccuracies.

Spoilers: Cruz does not exist in this universe. Takes place after the start of season 4.

* * *

Do you ever wish you were someone else?

There have always been moments, especially as a child, when I would sit and stare at the other kids in the park and imagine what it would be like to be them. I always looked for the kid whose mom or dad pushed them on the swing or ran to comfort them if they fell and scraped their knees.

In high school, when I played football, I always remember picking out a man in the crowd and pretending he was my dad. I imagined he had come to watch the game after a hard day at work just because he wanted to see me play. Silly as it sounds, I would rehearse what to say to him when we would meet after the game. Of course, the dream never materialised and I always made sure to leave the locker room last so no one would see me walking home alone.

Even now, years after I should have outgrown this fantasy world, I could be sitting in the RMP and some passer-by would catch my eye and I would start daydreaming all over again. I always chose the happy looking ones.

Well, I don't want to be me anymore. I just want to escape my world and my problems. I'm wishing I was someone else, heck anyone else right about now.

I'm watching the nurse as she changes my i.v. bag. I gaze up at her as she works.

She seems nice, a motherly kind of nice. I wonder what her life is like. Does she have a family? Does she worry about paying the bills? Does she have a good marriage? Did she ever kill anyone?

She looks down at me benevolently. I turn away ashamed. If she knew what I had done she wouldn't look at me that way.

Faith is in the room too. I have no idea what she's saying to me. I've decided the only way to get rid of her is to tune her out completely.

I thought it would be hard, but it isn't because I keep replaying Mikey's phone message over and over again. It plays incessantly in my brain and I can't make it stop and maybe I don't ever want it to stop. It feels like it is the last connection I have to him and I don't ever want to let him go.

But, I know replaying his message over and over will eventually drive me crazy.

I try to think of every possible action on my part that could have changed the outcome of that day. But what good will that do me now. All the what-ifs in the world won't bring back Mikey.

I close my eyes. I've never felt more tired in my entire life. I don't think I could get up from the bed if my life depended on it. I just want to sleep, and never wake up.

* * *

"Bosco, you have to eat something. How about some soup." He doesn't even acknowledge my existence. I look at up the nurse embarrassed.

"Mr. Boscorelli, your friend is right," she interjects. "You need to build up your strength. Why don't you try eating?"

The nurse looks at him intently but he ignores her too. She turns back to me and says, "why don't I leave the tray here a little while longer." She jots something in his chart before leaving the room.

I pull my chair closer to the bed. "Bosco, I know you can hear me."

He continues to ignore me but I feel a desperate need to get through to him. I straighten out the covers and lightly brush his arm intentionally. He flinches at my touch and I stare down at him feeling completely alienated.

I don't know what to do. He lies in that bed and refuses to talk or eat. I'm watching him disappear before my very eyes and I feel the fear down to the depths of my soul.

I need to do something and I need to do it now. I can't wait on doctors or psychologists to handle this. I need to get through to him myself. I know Bosco better than anyone else except of course, his mother.

I haven't been able to find out where she's staying, so I'm on my own for now. I'm not sure what to do, all I know is I have to do something.

TBC…


	8. Forgiveness 8

Title: Forgiveness 8

Disclaimers: I don't own them I just wish I did.

Spoilers: Cruz does not exist in this universe. Takes place after the start of season 4.

* * *

"Leave!" he shouts as he clenches the bed sheet tightly in his left hand. The veins in his neck begin to bulge as the anger rises in him. "Leave me the hell alone." He turns to face the wall and pulls the sheet roughly over his shoulder.

"You can't get rid of me, Bosco. I'm not leaving." I say to his back. I can see the tension in his shoulders as he burrows deeper into his pillow. "The silent treatment isn't going to work. I'll keep talking 'til I'm blue in the face."

"I don't want you to talk about him. You have no right to talk about him to me," he spits out angrily.

I move around the bed so I can face him once again. He doesn't look at me but I can sense he's on the verge of breaking down. I push on. "And why don't you want me talk about Mikey, huh?" He doesn't respond. He just closes his eyes as the tears come.

"Bosco, we need to talk about Mikey," I whisper softly as I approach him.

He shakes his head no and I reach and let my hand fall on his shoulder.

"No," he chokes out. "No…don't."

"I'm not going anywhere, Bosco. I'm right here." I rub his shoulder as he is racked by sobs. " Bosco, you can tell me. Please tell me." My heart is breaking as I watch his tears spill down his cheeks.

In between breaths he continues his assault on me. " Leave…me…alone. I – I hate…you. You don't…know anything. " He pulls away from me and tries to lower the rail to get out of bed. I struggle briefly with him but he doesn't have the strength to fight me let alone stand up.

In his frustration he starts to pull out all the wires and i.v.'s.

"Bosco – Stop that." I yell as I grab for his hands. I manage to still them but he continues to struggle against me. I loosen my grip on his wrists not wanting to hurt him but I keep my hold on him.

He tries to pull away a few more times and each time I feel the waning of his strength. I decide to let him go, I know he's not going anywhere. He pulls his arms up over his head and drapes them across his eyes to hide from me.

I sit and listen to his sobs until he finally falls asleep.

* * *

The i.v. needle and plastic tube snake out of my arm like an umbilical cord. In a strange kind of way, it is a lifeline that connects me to the world of the living.

I finger the tape holding it in place. I know removing it won't kill me but I don't want it. I don't want anyone to waste his or her time or effort on me. I don't want anyone to care.

I peel off the tape and pull the needle out slowly. I feel the cold metal snaking it's way up through my skin. I stare at the small hole in my arm and watch as a few drops of blood begin to seep out.

I stare at my arm and the site of my own blood leads me to darker thoughts. It wouldn't be fair to take the easy way out. I need to be punished for what I did to Mikey.

It is the middle of the night and Faith is at home. The nurse won't be back for hours and I see this as my chance to leave this place. I can't stay here any longer. The doctors and nurses need to attend to people who deserve to live, not someone like me. I push myself up and bring my legs over the side of the bed. A wave of dizziness hits me and I brace myself against the bed.

I wait until the room stops spinning and then slowly make my way to the closet to retrieve my clothes. My body does not want to cooperate. Every step feels like I'm dragging an elephant behind me and I'm soaked in sweat from the exertion of walking 10 feet. I grab at the door handle and hold on for dear life.

My heart must be beating at a thousand miles an hour because it threatens to burst right out of my chest. I slide down to the floor and wrap my arms around myself. I know I won't get very far. I'm incapable of my own escape and all I can do is wallow in my own weakness. I laugh when I realize it's what I deserve.

The cold floor feels like an oasis against my burning skin. I ease myself down onto my side and rest my cheek against the tiles. I'm not going anywhere for now so I close my eyes and wait for sleep to take me.

TBC…


	9. Forgiveness 9

Title: Forgiveness 9

Disclaimers: I don't own them I just wish I did.

Spoilers: Cruz does not exist in this universe. Takes place after the start of season 4.

Summary: Bosco blames himself for Mikey's death. Can Faith help him?

* * *

I am awakened by the gentle sound of the ocean waves. I feel the harshness of the sand against my cheek and I know I must be dreaming because the last thing I remember is my failed escape attempt from the hospital.

The cool breeze caresses me and sprays me with the cleansing ocean mist. I don't dare open my eyes in case the spell is broken and I find myself back at Mercy.

The sound of the waves lulls me into a false sense of security as the gulls caw their discontent from a distance.

"Mo." It's Mikey. I'd recognize that voice anywhere. I roll towards him and peel my eyes open. The brightness of the day causes me to squint and hold my hand up against my eyes.

"Mo, let's go." He playfully lobs a clump of sand that hits me in the chest.

I look up at him in disbelief. It is Mikey. He's really here. "Mikey…" is all my voice can manage as he looms over me.

"Come on bro. Get up. I don't have all day to watch you catching up on your beauty sleep," he says in exasperation.

I prop myself up on my elbows as his flops down beside me. I can't even ask the million questions that run through my brain.

"Bro, we made it to California. We can't sleep our days away. We have places to go, people to meet, chicks to pick up." He smiles slyly at me with that last phrase as his eyes narrow dreamily.

"Mo, did you have a little too much to drink last night?" He waits for my reply, but I have no voice. "You know, it took 8 days of almost non-stop driving, or pushing that old jalopy of yours, to get here." He kicks the sand absentmindedly with the toe of his sneaker. "And I'm not wasting another minute." He shouts as he gets up.

I rub the sand out of my eyes, literally and sit up to take in the view. By God, I think we are in California. Mikey always dreamed about taking a road trip to the West Coast. We planned it one long ago summer, but it never worked out. Life got in the way; I joined the Rangers and he couldn't bring himself to leave Ma by herself.

"Let's go," he yells as he jogs away. He beckons me with a wave of his arm but I'm unable to follow, unable to rise from my spot. I want to tell him to stop, to come back for me, but the ocean drowns my voice out as he fades from view.

* * *

I knock on the window to alert Faith that I'm here. Shelooks towards me and motions for me to enter.

She turns back towards Bosco without a word to me as I enter the room. Her hands work at smoothing out the edge of the bed sheet, and she does it without taking her eyes off him. The movement is automatic, without thought.

I move closer and stand behind her. I look down at Bosco. His sleep does not look restful and his appearance looks worse than the last time I saw him.

Bosco's hands and ankles are wrapped in restraints. This was all Faith's doing and I don't blame her for the way she reacted when she heard they had found Bosco shivering on the floor. She knew exactly what he was up to even if the nurses dismissed this as confusion on Bosco's part. She managed to convince the doctor this was the best thing for Bosco.

"How's he doing?" I ask.

I hear her sigh and see her shake her head slightly. The fact that she doesn't turn to look at me unnerves me somewhat.

"They had to up the antibiotics. He must have been lying on that floor for hours before they found him. His fever spiked back up and they're not sure the same medication will be effective now."

I see her hands reach up to swipe at her cheeks and her shoulders sag from the invisible weight she is carrying.

"Faith, I'll sit with him for a while. Why don't you take a break?"

I feel silly talking to her back, watching the thinnest strands of her blonde hair flutter and float around her neck.

"That's what got him here," She replies angrily but I know her anger is not directed at me.

"Okay, then I'll sit with you." I pull up another chair and position it next to hers. We sit in silence for the longest time.

Eventually, the silence is broken by Bosco's mumbling. He is dreaming and calls out for Mikey. Faith grabs his hand and then smoothes out his hair as if she were waking Charlie from a bad dream.

Bosco's opens his eyes and I watch his expression darken when he takes in his surroundings.

He tries to pull up his hands, but they are held down by the restraints. He looks down and notices the bonds around his wrists.

"What's this?" he asks in a hoarse but incredulous tone.

"Bosco, it's for your own good," Faith replies calmly. Her voice strong and unwavering tells me she has no doubts about her decision.

"You're not my mother, Faith," he says angrily.

"No, I'm your friend, Bosco."

"You're not my friend either," he says as he pulls hard on the restraints.

Faith's mouth is set in a thin line as she purses her lips. She doesn't want to get in a war of words with him. It will only make matters worse, but I can see the hurt in her expression and it takes all of her willpower not to answer back.

"Get these things off of me," Bosco yells and rattles the bed rails with the force of his movements.

He becomes flushed as his efforts intensify. It doesn't take long before he's panting from the exertion and then eventually runs out of steam. The room quiets except for the sound of his breathing.

"I want you to leave," he orders.

"No, I won't. I told you I wouldn't, and I'm sorry I left you that night at the house. I should have never left you with Davis then."

"You would have left me lot sooner if you had any brains," he lashes out with the only weapon he has left, his words.

"Why do you want me to leave? We're partners, friends and I'm sorry Boz…" she says not looking away from him.

"Because, it's for you own good," he throws back.

I feel like an intruder. I shouldn't be here. Quietly, I stand to leave.

"This is not about me, is it Boz?" she says gently.

The sound of her voice forces me to turn and look at her. Her eyes are so full of understanding and compassion as if she's read his deepest, darkest thoughts.

"It hurts. I know it hurts," she whispers

Bosco sucks in a deep breath and seeks out Faith with his eyes. He stares at her as if she is the only person left in this world. "It was just a dream," he says sadly and closes his eyes to stem the tears.

"I know, Boz," Faith coos softly to him. "I know." She lets out a breath, grateful that he didn't push her away this time.

TBC…


	10. Forgiveness 10

Title: Forgiveness 10

Disclaimers: I don't own any part of TW.

Spoilers: Cruz does not exist in this universe. Takes place after the start of season 4.

Summary: Bosco blames himself for Mikey's death. Can Faith help him?

* * *

This time I don't wake gently, I'm jolted out of unconsciousness when I feel cold water all around me. I'm in the ocean and I frantically search for something to hang on to, a boat, a life vest, anything. I look all around and find nothing, not even the shore.

The sky above is grey and threatening, the water dark and foreboding. I feel the panic rise in my chest until it hurts to breathe.

I hear a scream for help. Its desperation so raw it scares me because it is my own voice calling out. I tread water in a hopeless attempt to save myself and I wonder why I feel myself drowning even before I've swallowed any water.

* * *

I awake with a start.

Something in my sleep scared me but I don't remember what. My heart beats wildly within my chest and I can only wait while it calms. I look around in the darkness and find a few familiar items close by. They remind that I am sitting in Bosco's room.

The last thing I recall is a nurse administering another dose of antibiotics. Bosco was awake for a short period until the fever and drugs left his mind unable to think or respond to any of my questions.

I rise quickly and check on him. I notice the restraints still tethered to his limbs and reach out to remove them. They serve no purpose now in his weakened state.

I grab hold of his wrists and feel the ever-present fever. My fingers fumble as I try to release him when the sound of his breathing makes me stop.

I don't need to lean in any closer to recognize the sound and my dream comes back in a rush of fear. I remember the water and I hear him struggling to breathe and I know he's drowning.

* * *

"HELP." My arms and legs push and pull as I struggle to keep my head above the water. My throat is on fire from the saltiness of the sea and my fruitless cries.

My pleas are swallowed by the vastness of the ocean, and soon so will my body. This thought alone causes me to redouble my efforts.

"HELLLLP – SOMEONE HELP!" I cry out shrilly.

"Bro, take it easy."

"Mikey – Mikey, help," I sob out weakly. My body too tired to swim to the boat that has appeared a mere 10 feet from me.

"Mikey, please." I beg, all my bravado and cockiness having been stripped away. "Mikey, I can't do this…"

He sits and stares at me, sadness etched into his features. "Mo, I can't help you."

"Mikey, I'm sorry…please…don't do this…" My body feels like lead except for the fear coursing through my veins. I let the panic take hold and scream once again only to choke on a mouthful of water.

* * *

Water fills his lungs. The doctor explained it is not unusual due to the fever and prolonged bed rest. They've drained his lungs once by inserting a needle into his chest and drawing out the fluid. The relief is only temporary as more liquid forms and the whole process begins again.

He is breathing with the aid of an oxygen mask and a nurse comes to turn him to relieve the pressure on his chest.

She is here now, moving him onto his right side. I watch in fascination as she expertly places his arms and legs in a position to facilitate turning him.

The hospital gown has been removed for the sake of convenience and a blanket covers him up to his waist.

His body seems withered, and fragile. His features gaunt to emaciation, ribs protruding, his abdomen expanding and falling as he struggles to draw the next wheezing breath.

The nurse turns him gently, and I watch as his arm flops limply over the edge of the bed. Fingers slightly curved, hand upturned in a pleading pose. I wait to see if he will bleed from the hole I expect to appear in the middle of his palm. The sight of his lifeless arm, incapable of saving itself cuts my breath and I remember a long ago conversation.

We never discussed death except for one time during an endless shift, when we talked about how we would like to die. We laughed until we cried, each of us trying to better the other with ludicrous scenarios. Eventually the conversation turned sombre and we both revealed our worst fears.

Bosco said it happened while he was with the Rangers. He never spoke about his tour, not even to brag. All I ever knew was that he spent 3 years in the Rangers and served in Somalia for an extended period. Something happened to him while he was in Africa and he admitted he was afraid of drowning.

I feel a sense of foreboding darkness come over me. Knowing this, I can't sit back and let this happen.

I suddenly snap out of my reverie. "Let me," I bark at the nurse just as she is about to lift his lifeless arm and place it on the bed.

She turns, slightly surprised by the tone of my voice, but doesn't question my request.

I wait until she exits before approaching Bosco. I wouldn't want to betray his confidence in me by letting her in on his secrets.

I reach out for his hand and hover over it ever so lightly before taking it.

I feel it now. He knows. He knows he's drowning and I need him to believe that I won't let this happen.

TBC…


	11. Forgiveness 11

Title: Forgiveness 11

Disclaimers: I don't own them I just wish I did.

Spoilers: Cruz does not exist in this universe. Takes place after the start of season 4.

Summary: Bosco blames himself for Mikey's death. Can Faith help him?

Warning: Major angst, darkness, and pain. Oh, and Fred is a good guy here.

* * *

They think I'm so strong, that I know exactly what I'm doing. They couldn't be further from the truth.

The nurses and doctors defer to me before making a change to his medication or treatment.

What do I know?

I know that I've worked with Bosco for ten years, joked with him, cried on his shoulder, trusted him with my life and that of my family. We shared some of our darkest secrets, supported each other in our most difficult moments and tore each other down in anger and rage.

I know when he's happy, when he's going to shoot himself in the foot, and when he's going to risk everything for a total stranger.

With Bosco, I'm sure of myself because I'm sure about him. As unpredictable as he can be, when it counts, I know his every move.

I know that he's gonna go left when I go right. I know how to communicate with him without uttering a word. I trust he's behind me even if I can't see him and I know when I can charge ahead because he's got my back.

These things I know.

But now I don't know. I'm not so sure of myself and I look for reassurance. "Fred."

He leaves his spot by the window and walks back by my side. He places his hands on my shoulders and massages me gently. "Fred, I don't know what to do."

I'm not afraid to expose my fears and weaknesses to my husband "Fred, what should I do?"

He leans down and hugs me from behind. He is here because I am here and he doesn't want me to go through this alone.

"You're doing it honey. You need to make sure he never gives up, just like you never gave up on me." He burrows his face in the crook of my neck and kisses me tenderly.

His words are strong and sure and he knows it's what I need to hear.

He knows the answers to my questions. He knows my fears and quells them for me. He knows my weaknesses and he makes me stronger.

These things they both know.

* * *

The water comes. It is unrelenting and endless. Small waves lap against me until I swallow another mouthful of salt water. I spit out what I can and then hear my voice, harsh, desperate, and frightened as I beg for his forgiveness. "Mikey…I'm sorry. I never meant for anything bad to happen to you."

He refuses to answer me and I fear he's not here to help but to seek his revenge. I rage at him with the little strength I have left. "Don't let me die like this. Mikey, please, you know…you know I can't die like this."

"Mo…please…I can't…please don't ask me…" He doesn't finish, just looks away. My hopelessness is replaced by anger and it propels me to swim towards the boat. My lungs and muscles burn as my arms move in slow, sloppy strokes barely out of the water. I make no headway towards him in fact the boat looks further away now than before.

My frustration and helplessness grow until I just want to scream but even that would take too much effort.

I keep asking myself the same question. _Does he hate me so much that he would let me_ _die like this_?

"Is this my punishment?" I gasp out desperately, arms and legs flailing weakly.

Suddenly the boat appears mere inches away, so tantalizingly close that I can smell the resin in the wood. Mikey leans out towards me and I pray he's come to pull me into the boat.

But my hope fades when I see the hurt in his eyes, as he says, "No, it's mine."

* * *

They tell me it has been five days since he was brought in but it feels like a lifetime. I don't know what day it is anymore. What I know is the rhythm of the hospital, the start of the next shift, the time for meds, the time to check vitals, to change position, to poke, to prod.

Day and night have no meaning. I think and feel only in the now. The only questions I ask are in the now. Is he breathing? Is he hurting? Is he waking?

I don't sleep. I can't. Now is all I have and I can't waste it.

Now, all I do is talk. Call to him. Encourage him. Beg him.

Now, I will him to breathe. Will him to fight. Will him to live.

I watch myself as if I was a stranger. My hand, although attached to my body works on its own. I watch it as it washes away the fevered sweat from his body. I watch it as it rubs his back when his breathing shudders and stutters.

I hear my voice, but it I don't recognize it. This voice rises above the humming and beeping sounds of the machines. "Bosco, don't give up. Just hang in there. I won't leave you. I'm right here…" On and on it goes. It won't falter and it won't give up on him. Not now.

* * *

I reach out as far as the strength left in my body will allow. My fingers brush against the side of the boat. The wood feels smooth to my touch but offers me nothing to hold on to.

Pain and fear consume my body and I groan involuntarily with every breath. The effort of extending my arm is too much for me and I lose contact with the boat. I feel like my last chance for salvation has been exhausted.

"Mo, listen to me." I hear Mikey's words and the urgency in his voice forces me to look up at him.

"Mo, it doesn't have to end this way." He shakes his head sadly. "It doesn't…"

My mind is reeling, and all I want is this pain to end. He stares down at me compassionately and says sincerely, "Please, forgive me."

My mind is in a haze and I don't understand his words. _Doesn't he see that I need his_ _forgiveness, not the other way around?_ He senses my confusion and continues.

"Everything comes with a price," he muses to himself. "My greatest sin was selfishness. I thought only about myself. I guess I was born to be a junkie." He looks away and stares out towards the horizon. "When I got here," he waves his hand out over the water, " I thought I was in heaven. Here I was in California, where I had always wanted to be." He looks down at me regretfully and starts to cry softly.

"I had to learn the price of my selfishness." He wipes his eyes quickly. "This is it." He looks down at me again, shame showing in his eyes. "This is what it was like for you watching me throw my life away with my drugs and not being able to stop me. I'm sorry, Mo. I didn't know how much I hurt you." He turns away ashamed.

I can barely keep my head above water. I start to choke and cough as water fills my lungs. Mikey turns back quickly towards me. I see the panic in his eyes as he reaches down towards me. He instantly regrets his decision and stops just as his arm is hovering above me.

This is my last chance and I lunge at him with everything last bit of strength I have left. I see my arm rise above the water and I grunt as the effort causes all the air to leave my lungs. I grab on to his hand but on contact, I feel a searing fire run through my body.

My scream is muffled when my head sinks below the water and I let go of him immediately. Somehow, miraculously I manage to break the surface again. I can barely think or breathe through the pain that racks my body and I don't know how much longer I can keep this up.

I hear Mikey's soft cries. "They won't let me help…this is my punishment…please, please forgive me…I never meant for this to happen."

TBC…


	12. Forgiveness 12

Forgiveness 12/12

Author: Cactus

Disclaimers: I don't own them I just wish I did.

Spoilers: Cruz does not exist in this universe. Takes place after the start of season 4.

Summary: Bosco blames himself for Mikey's death. Can Faith help him?

That's right folks – this is the final chapter.

I was completely overwhelmed by all your feedback and I hope the conclusion is to your liking.

By all means, feel free to let me know what you think.

* * *

Mikey is calling out to me. His voice is panicked and shrill and it scares me even more. The pressure on my chest increase until it becomes unbearable. My lungs and throat are ablaze, the fiery agony making it impossible for me to focus on anything but the pain.

I throw my head back to prevent myself from swallowing even more water. I have little control over my movements because my limbs are paralyzed from bone numbing exhaustion.

But Mikey keeps calling me. I force myself to focus on his words. He leans down so close to me that I can almost feel his breath. But, I don't dare touch him.

"Mo, I'm not suppose to help you, but I can't let this go on." He looks around nervously.

In my mind, I think he's going to take hold of me. My body jerks involuntarily at the thought of the fire running through me once again.

I groan and gasp, but can't speak to tell him no.

"Mo, listen to me," he shrieks out. I stop trying to get away.

"I don't care if I'm doomed by helping you. Listen to me Mo. When I was in your place, I couldn't see that there was a boat close by. You were in that boat trying to save me, but I couldn't see it." He looks around again before continuing. "Mo, there's another boat here for you."

I turn my head desperately but am unable to see anyone else.

"Mo, don't push them away like I did. You'll only end up here, and they'll end up in your place." He looks around expectantly as if waiting for something to happen.

"Mo, I don't have much time. They're coming for me. Please, I don't care about saving myself. You need to let me go. Just let me go and save yourself." He pleads with me.

He leans over until he can't get any closer to me. He whispers knowingly, "Let me go and you'll see the other boat."

These words drive the pain straight into my heart like a thousand knives. I don't want to let him go, he's my brother, my baby brother. I try to call him. All I can manage is a strangled first syllable. He turns to look at me as his boats starts to drift away. I watch it bobbing lazily on the water as it gets smaller and smaller.

I feel the tear in my soul as he is ripped away from me. It is so real that I look for pieces of my flesh in the water. I keep my eyes on him but he doesn't make any effort to come back. I manage one last wordless scream to call him but to no avail. I watch him helplessly as he waves goodbye until I lose sight of the boat.

I have no strength, or hope left and my body starts to tremble and shake from the fatigue and shock and all I can do is sob.

* * *

I'll admit I'm scared now. I never thought that Bosco could die, not like this anyway. If he does, I don't know how Faith will handle it. She's spent both emotionally and physically. I'm scared for her and I watch her as she sleeps with her head resting on his bed. She refuses to leave his side and she tried to stay awake, but she's too exhausted.

It doesn't make sense. He's young and strong and yet…he can't seem to fight the fever and the pneumonia eating away at his lungs. They put him on the ventilator about 2 hours ago. He was struggling to breathe on his own and the gasping and gulping sounds he made with each breath were painful to listen to.

The doctors can't figure out why he's got so much water in his lungs. It seems like an endless supply. They upped his meds and reduced the saline solution. I don't think they expect him to wake up any time soon but the taped his eyes shut in case.

I look down at him and although the ventilator does all the work for him I can't help but notice how he is still struggling. Every so often I watch as his arms jerk and his chest makes a heaving motion. The nurse says this is involuntary but I'm not so sure.

I wonder what he sees and feels at this moment. I remember my own experience after my heart attack. I never told anyone what it was like, not even Faith. It was frightening and painful and although I was eventually saved, I don't want her to be scared.

I turn to look at her. Her head is resting on her arms, her breathing even and soft.

I want to protect her from all the pain in the world but I know that's impossible. I brush her hair away from her face as she sleeps peacefully. I love her even more now than before and I kiss her gently before I leave the room.

* * *

White.

White-hot searing light pierces through the haze in my mind. It jolts me back to reality.

I am seized by terror when I feel the water surround me. I begin to tremble and shake involuntarily. 'I am dead', is the only thought running through my brain.

I can't see but I can hear sounds all around me. Voices call to me but the words are all jumbled. I can't make sense of anything anymore.

I hear my groans but I can't speak. I realize I am under water.

I look up and I see the bottom of a boat above me. I hear Faith, hear her screams blaring above the roar in my ears.

My lungs are unable stave off the need for more oxygen and I can't hold my breath any longer. I start to gulp. The water rushes into my mouth and I feel it rushing down and invading my stomach.

The pain only intensifies my need for air and I take an involuntary breath as I fight to reach the surface. It causes me to choke, which only increases the agony. Each cough brings more water into my mouth, nose and lungs.

I feel myself fading as my vision blurs. I'm unable to coordinate any movements and I start to lose the feeling in my hands and arms.

The deafening sound in my ears is broken vaguely by the resonance of her voice. She's calling me. I realize now she's always been calling me.

I can barely make her out above me but she must be leaning out over the boat because I see fingers just below the surface. Her voice is panicked and shrill, as she urges me to grab her hand.

My lungs try to eject the water from my body but my efforts only cause me to suck in a lungful of salty, bitter water. I have no strength left and all I can do is let my arm float up towards Faith.

I graze her fingers but can't make any movement to grasp them. I swallow water faster and faster until I feel like I'm going to explode. My body is at its breaking point and I watch Faith as her mouth forms the words that I can no longer hear.

White. That's the colour of my pain. White-hot agony.

* * *

My eyes shoot open when I feel the touch of his hand on mine. I must have fallen asleep and I'm not sure if I'm dreaming. He's trying to grab a hold of me.

My head darts up from the bed immediately and I freeze when I hear him struggling to breathe. I remember that he's on the ventilator and this shouldn't be happening. I quickly reach for the light above his bed and turn it on.

Something is wrong. He's struggling violently to take in oxygen. His groans are desperate and terrifying as his body jerks weakly. I grab his outstretched hand and I hear myself calling to him frantically.

He is fighting to open his eyes and I rip the tape off that was meant to keep them shut.

The monitors are shrieking with the urgency of the situation and his nurse rushes into the room.

She takes in the scene before her and moves to handle it.

"Mr. Boscorelli, you're fighting the machine. You have to relax and let it do the work."

His eyes are wide with terror and he chokes and gags against the machine. Water starts to trickle out from his nose and the side of his mouth. His movements are panicked and frantic. And he tries to reach up towards his mouth.

The grunting sounds he emits are alarming and I call to him again.

"Bosco- Bosco." His eyes are wild with fear.

"Nurse, you have to remove the tube. He's choking on it. He can't breathe." I hear my terrified voice barking out these orders.

"Mrs. Yokas, he needs to relax. I can't remove the tube. It's helping him breathe."

"He's choking – can't you see." I yell at the top of my lungs. "Get it out of him or help me God, I'll do it myself." I move towards the head of the bed and I'm ready to yank the whole thing out if she refuses to do it.

Above the din of the alarms and bells, Bosco lets out a muted scream forcing water out through his mouth and nose in small rivulets. His hand reaches out, searching for something to grab on to and instinctively I take it.

The nurse springs into action at the sound and sight of his distress. She doesn't bother with niceties or explanations. She unhooks the machine, grabs the tubing and yanks it out with a backward jerk of her arm.

Immediately the water comes pouring out of Bosco like a river. The nurse turns him quickly, his upper body hanging limply off the bed.

"Hold him." She commands me and I move to take over her position. I place one hand beneath his forehead to keep it steady and I wrap my arm around his torso from behind to keep from rolling off the bed. He heaves and dumps a stomach full of water all over the floor. His body suddenly seems boneless, and I'm not sure if he's still conscious.

He heaves again, and with a low guttural sound empties his stomach.

The nurse runs out of the room to get some help.

I feel his body contracting fiercely under my touch. I lean over and look at his face. His eyes are fluttering and liquid is pouring out of his nose and mouth. A small puddle has accumulated on the floor.

He makes no effort to breathe on his own. I push his head back and he moans and throws up again. It's inconceivable to me that there could be so much liquid inside of him.

I call to him and shake his body hanging limply in my arms.

"Nurse – nurse – help me," I yell out. I look out into the corridor and hear running feet and voices approaching rapidly. I feel Bosco's body trembling and shaking and feel more water splashing down violently onto my feet and the floor.

A doctor runs into the room followed closely by the nurse. "Help him," I plead hysterically.

He looks at the water on the floor and sees Bosco's body jerk, as more water is discharged from his lungs. I see the confusion in his eyes but it only takes him a second to jump into action. He takes Bosco from me and pushes him back onto the bed. The nurse pulls the pillow from behind his head and throws it to the floor.

Bosco lies motionless except for the quivering of his muscles. I can see his abdomen rippling as his stomach contracts intensely and more water comes shooting out of his mouth.

The doctor turns his head to the side and barks out orders to the nurse. I can't hear anything they are saying, the scene before me too shocking and terrifying in all its implications.

The doctor straddles Bosco's lifeless body and starts to push down forcefully on his abdomen. Each thrust causes more water to come spurting out.

I can feel my hand going up to my mouth as I choke back my fear and I back up until I run into the wall behind me. I can only watch in horror as the scene unfolds before me.

* * *

I bound up the stairs to Bosco's apartment two by two. I push past the door that I left slightly ajar a few minutes ago.

I look to the couch but he's not where I left him. Damn, he barely made it up the stairs and I don't want him back at the hospital already.

He was discharged two days ago and he stayed with his mom until now. His mom finally called my house when she couldn't reach him and she came back immediately after I told her what happened.

I look quickly in the kitchen but there's no sign of him. I turn in the opposite direction and see the bathroom door open and the light off. I guess he's not there either.

Maybe, he needed to lie down. I walk down the corridor towards the bedroom and hear the clicking and beeping of his answering machine. I hesitate before entering.

I feel like an intruder as I watch him finger the machine and play one of the recordings. He doesn't notice that I'm in the doorway and I watch him from behind as he wraps his arms around his chest.

The tape clicks on.

"Mo, it's me, Mikey. Mo, I need to talk to you. Pick up if you're home." Loud music and laughter are heard in the background. " Mo, I got great news. I'm going to California." Mikey laughs crazily as the phone drops to the floor." Sorry about that, bro. Yeah, some friends and I are gonna go down just like we had always planned." A chorus of people start singing the Beach Boys, California Girls. " Mo, you gotta come too. I won't go without you, bro." Another voice rises above the rest. "Baby, we are flying sky high. No need to drive to California." Mikey explains," No, we gotta drive down. That's how we planned it with my brother." He turns back to the receiver." Mo, just think, we could be surfing and swimming in the Pacific Ocean, just like we always planned. Call me when you get in." A jumble of music and laughter is heard until the line is cut off.

The finality of the click reverberates in the room. He does not move at all. Just stands, head hanging, frozen to the spot, lost in his thoughts.

I approach him slowly and call out his name to let him know I'm right behind him. He doesn't turn or answer.

"Bos," I whisper softly again.

I tentatively place my hand on his shoulder. He remains motionless for a few seconds and then places his own hand over mine. I pull him towards me and his unresisting body turns and lets itself be enveloped in my arms. He buries his head in my shoulder and I rub the back of his neck.

"Thank you." He says in a strangled voice still hoarse and scratchy from his ordeal.

"For what Bos?"

He takes two gulping breaths, his chest contracting somewhat. This no longer scares me. The doctor said it isn't anything physical but most probably a psychological reaction that will eventually fade. I think he's afraid he'll run out of air and his body is reacting instinctively to that fear.

"Thank you for always being there and for saving me." I pull him in closer and hold him tighter.

"I'll always be here for you, Bos. Always."

The End


End file.
